


Gambles of the Heart

by AnotherStoryMustBegin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bets & Wagers, Confusion, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friendship, Happy Ending, Humor, Ice Skating, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Neighbors, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-18 21:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11883651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherStoryMustBegin/pseuds/AnotherStoryMustBegin
Summary: After losing a bet, Victor is not allowed to ask anyone out on a date for a whole month. Meeting Yuuri Katsuki shortly afterwards definitely isn't going to make matters any easier...





	1. Chapter 1

“Будем здоровы!”

“Victor, haven’t you had enough already?” asked a weary Georgi as he watched the silver-haired Russian start on his next consecutive glass. Yakov always invited his team out to dinner to toast the end to a successful final competition, and this season was no exception. Victor had taken home the gold again, so he took it upon himself to celebrate accordingly.

“Nonsense! Another,” he declared cheerfully with a swig of his drink. Yakov was outside making an important phone call and Victor was thankful he wasn’t here to berate him further on his intake. He drained the glass and beamed, leaning back in his chair as somebody scoffed. He turned to his side to see the sulky blonde glowering back at him, and laughed good-naturedly.

“You just won the juniors, Yurio, I thought that would’ve perked you up a bit,” he teased gently.

“I told you not to call me that!” Yuri shot back, “And at least I know how to celebrate without embarrassing myself,” he snorted derisively.

Victor chuckled, “Trust me, Yura, I know a thing or two more than you about having a good time.” He was known for it, in fact. Not only was he a serial flirt, but also far older in years than the younger skater.

 “Oh yeah? You think?” Yuri demanded.

“I _know_ ,” Victor grinned childishly, not sober enough to avoid rising to the occasion.

Yuri flushed, pride bristling as he puffed himself up “You’re dead wrong, old man!”

“Want a bet?”

“Did I hear the word _bet_?” Georgi asked, sitting forward in his seat with a grin.

Yuri’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded “If it means I beat him, fair and square.”

Victor raised an eyebrow, “You really want to go there, Yurio?”

“Bring it on.”

Georgi stood, eyes glinting mischievously behind his eyeshadow as he threw his arms up in the air, “Lady and gentlemen, we have ourselves a wager!”

 Victor smiled. Now this could get interesting.

“Plisetsky is the challenger, so Nikiforov gets to choose the method. Victor, if you will?” Georgi gestured to him as Mila drummed her hands on the table for dramatic effect.

“If,” Victor pointed his finger at Yuri with a grin “You are able to match me, drink for drink, for the rest of the evening, then you win.”

“ _Alcohol!_ An excellent choice! Nikiforov has named his weapon,” Georgi declared as Mila clapped excitedly, before beckoning to the opponent “now Plisetsky will name the stakes.”

Yuri stuck his chin out defiantly, rising to the occasion “If you win, you get to choose the music for my next short programme. Anything you like,” he shot Victor a glare and continued to speak over the top of the laughter that followed the statement. “But if _I_ win,” Yuri paused to think for a moment.

Then the answer came to him.

“You aren’t allowed to ask anyone out for an entire month. No dates, no one night stands, no declarations of feelings or love, nothing,” Yuri said and Victor simply laughed. This would be child’s play.

“Alright,” he smiled graciously “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

 

* * *

 

Victor came back with the first round of drinks precariously balanced on a tray, pushing half the glasses across the table to the small blonde who had been burning holes into his back all the while he was up at the bar.

“Plisetsky! Ready?” Georgi asked, earning him a nod. “Nikiforov! Ready?” he continued.

Another nod.

“Then let the challenge be-”

“ _YURATCHKA!_ ” Georgi’s words were cut off by the bellowing voice of Yakov as he stormed across to them, snatching away the first glass in the young blonde’s hand “What part of _underage_ do you still fail to understand?!”

“But _Yakov_! It’s for a wager,” Yuri pouted, Yakov glaring across at Victor’s innocent expression.

“I suppose you have something to do with this?” he barked, sighing when Victor just shrugged and twirled the stem of his own glass, “Honestly. I can’t take you kids anywhere, can I?” he huffed, face redder than usual.

“But what about the bet? I was about to win!” Yuri demanded, his pleading look quickly morphing into indignance when he heard Victor’s snickering.

Yakov hardly seemed sympathetic though, and shook his head, “You’ll just have to win another way, won’t you?”

Yuri looked scandalized. Victor was about to pat his head with an amused _‘no hard feelings’_ when Mila cleared her throat.

“Boys, I think I have a solution.”

Victor and Yuri looked at one another, then back to her.

Victor didn’t like the smile he found there.

 

* * *

 

 

“NO! I demand a rematch!” Victor gasped, glaring across at a smug looking Yuri as he took a final swig from his own drink. He slammed it down on the table in annoyance, sticky and now littered with empty glasses.

“Just accept that I won, old man! Fair and square,” the blonde barked a laugh.

“But,” Victor spluttered “It was _our_ wager!”

“One that _I_ won.”

“Not if you let Mila do the drinking for you! That doesn’t count!”

“The rules never excluded that,” Yuri grinned evilly.

“But-”

“You chose the bet, and I picked someone eligible to compete. Fair’s fair.”

“That’s not,” Victor tried desperately. He turned to Georgi in search of the referee’s support, but the smirk that greeted him to his left matched the rest of the party around them. They were all finding this far too funny to step in.

“So one whole month, huh?” Mila laughed, finger tracing the rim of her last empty glass, “This will be fun to watch.”

Victor could only groan.

 

* * *

 

 

Victor showed up to the rink the following morning nursing a mild hangover, but otherwise in better spirits. He’d come away from competitions where he could barely stand upright the next day, he reminded himself as he fished an aspirin from his kit bag and sat heavily to unlace his shoes. This was standard practice by now.

It was always pretty deserted at the rink once Worlds was over, and Victor enjoyed coming here to think.

“There you go, Makka,” he said, removing the dog’s lead and watching him lollop off. Makkachin often accompanied him to the rink if he timed it so no one was around to mind. The poodle loved bouncing around the barrier while Victor busied himself out on the ice, and Victor hated to leave him cooped up at home. He wouldn’t actually begin training for the next season for a month or so yet either…

_A month._

The memory of the night before caused Victor to slump in his seat. But it didn’t need to become a problem, he told himself. He had gone longer stretches before where he wasn’t seeing anyone, and this would be no different. Besides, it wasn’t as if many people were about. The lull that followed a season was always fairly quiet, so this wasn’t a bad time for it. He would simply have to wait it out and keep himself busy in other ways.

Four weeks. He could last four weeks.

His thoughts were interrupted however by a string of barks, followed by a thud, and he swiveled round to catch a mop of messy black hair dropping out of sight behind a flurry of brown fur.

“Makka, stop!” he called out as he rushed to pull the dog off the poor stranger he had just sent flying, “I’m so sorry, Makkachin can get really overexcited sometimes and forget how big…” Victor’s words trailed off, and his hands dropped to his sides. The man that Makkachin had so unceremoniously toppled over was laughing. A sound so joyful and sweet and Victor stared on in surprise as the dog nuzzled into the stranger’s shoulder affectionately.

Finally he cleared his throat to say something and the man seemed to notice him at last, eyes looking up to meet his gaze from behind blue framed glasses as his cheeks began to colour. _Warm, brown eyes…_

“Uh, sorry I didn’t…Makka can be a bit of a handful,” he finished lamely, crouching down to clip the lead back onto Makkachin’s collar as he smiled apologetically.

“Don’t be sorry. No harm done,” the stranger grinned, voice timid and in heavily accented English like his own, though from where he couldn’t place.

“Well, so long as you’re not hurt?” he checked, just to be sure.

“Not at all,” he shook his head “Your dog is beautiful, by the way. I actually have a poodle myself back home,” he added and Victor could swear he felt his heart take flight.

“I’m Victor,” he said standing up, and the other man chuckled again happily. How nice the sound was, Victor thought to himself, so spaced out that he nearly missed the words that followed it.

“Yes, I know who you are. You just won Russia the gold, didn’t you?”

Victor blinked in surprise, “You follow skating?”

The man gave him a funny look, one that Victor didn’t understand at first. It was only when he inclined his head towards the rink that Victor realised why.

He slapped a hand to his forehead, “Silly question, ignore me.”

The stranger grinned again, “I’m looking for Mr Feltsman, if you know where I can find him?”

“Oh Yakov? He’ll probably be in his office at this time, I’ll show you there,” Victor said and started to walk, hoping the other man was following but reluctant to check as he felt a blush creeping up his skin and prayed it wasn’t obvious.

When they arrived Victor knocked twice, heard a gruff “Войдите!” and entered with the man in glasses at his heel.

“Yakov, there’s someone here to-”

“Ah, Katsuki I presume?” the coach stood and stepped around the desk, appearing to size the dark-haired boy up with an appraising look.

“Katsuki Yuuri, nice to meet you,” they said with a slight bow, and suddenly it clicked.

“Katsuki Yuuri…from Skate America? You didn’t-”

“Qualify? Not even close, but I’m hopeful for next season,” Yuuri said shyly, ducking his head bashfully. Victor wanted to melt.

“Katsuki will be training here with us in the next few months to try and get him to qualifying level,” Yakov explained “while his own Coach Cialdini focuses on one of his fellow skaters making his senior debut.”

“Phichit Chulanont,” Yuuri added helpfully, and Victor nodded with a smile. It was all starting to make more sense now.

He was still smiling a few moments later when he heard a cough from Yakov, “If you wouldn’t mind, Vitya?” he said tersely and Victor jumped into action.

“Sorry! I’ll leave you to it. Lovely to meet you, Yuuri.”

The smile Yuuri shot him was so warm it nearly had Victor on his knees “And you, Victor.”

And with that he made his escape, running a hand down his face as soon as the door shut behind him, expression agonized.

One month.

One. Fucking. _Month._

Victor didn’t think he could last that long in Yuuri Katsuki’s presence without showing any signs of interest. One conversation in and he was already head over heels.

No, he could do this. Yuuri had come to St Petersburg to skate, and Victor wouldn’t be beginning his training for a while yet. He could deal with a few weeks of separation from the ice if it meant riding out the storm.

 _‘That’s it!’_ he thought as he went back to fetch Makkachin and head home, no longer in the mood to skate. He’d take the dog on a walk instead, to clear his head a little.

Distance. Distance was the answer.

 

* * *

 

 

Makkachin’s walk had already taken them halfway home when up flashed an image in Victor’s mind of empty cupboards, void of any sustenance. Shit, he thought, and span on his heel towards the nearest supermarket. He needed to stock up badly.

His eyes scanned the aisles absentmindedly, chucking anything that looked vaguely interesting into his basket. Victor was no cook, and had no idea quite what to do with the items that he grabbed or if they went together, but he’d never been averse to a little bit of trial and error. No time like the present to learn, he thought to himself cheerfully.

After paying up he began the journey home, slowed by the mass of carrier bags and his own curiosity forcing him to spend too long looking into every shop window.

He headed straight to the lift once he was inside, sparing his legs the five flights on this one occasion, “We’ve earned it, Makka,” he said smiling, and Makkachin barked in approval.

The floor dinged and he marched out into the hallway without looking where he was going. This proved to be a fatal error and he tripped over something the second his foot left the lift, yelping as he fell headlong into sea of boxes, the groceries flung in with him as the dog barked wildly.

 _‘So this is how I die?’_ He thought miserably. ‘ _What an embarrassing way to go…’_

One minute all Victor could see was cardboard, and the next he felt a strong hand grasping his own and pulling him upwards towards the light.

“My hero!” Victor began to declare as he made it back upright “I don’t know who left all these boxes here but if an upstanding citizen like you ha- …Yuuri?”

Standing over Victor, framed by a wall of cardboard boxes sporting annotations like ‘KITCHEN APPLIANCES’ and ‘FRAGILE’, was a pair of warm brown eyes, looking about as puzzled as Victor felt.

“Victor? What are you doing here?” Yuuri frowned and, ignoring how nice the name sounded on the other man’s tongue, Victor summoned a response. It took a good minute to find his words however.

“I live here,” he shrugged at last, gesturing to the door ahead of them both, “What about you?” he asked with a frown.

Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, something which only raised more questions in Victor’s brain. What on earth was he missing?

“Well I’m…” he fumbled, gesturing to the door across the corridor, and Victor knew exactly what was coming. “I just moved in here.”

 _‘Distance is the answer, huh?_ ’ he thought.

_Just my fucking luck…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor gets to know Yuuri a little better, and he quickly begins to realise quite how screwed he is...

“You…” Victor trailed off as his gaze flickered from Yuuri to the chrome plaque on the door, the number one higher than his own apartment. If he wasn’t convinced before, this had certainly done it. Some kind of karmic force definitely had it out for him.

“Celestino contacted your coach asking for affordably priced buildings he knew of in the area...” he explained, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He was clearly embarrassed, judging by the faint blush that dusted his soft features.  Victor felt sure his own cheeks were a riot of colour, but one he hadn’t the life force left to fight down anymore.

 _‘Come on,”_ he told himself. _‘Use your words, Victor.’_

“How funny,” he smiled, but he suspected it played more as a grimace “Welcome to the neighborhood, I guess!” he declared and thrust out his right arm and oh dear, he was offering his _hand_ to shake now? Where had that come from? He fought back the urge to withdraw it, though, well aware of how odd that would look. A little more cringe couldn’t hurt when he was already acting an idiot, could it? Yuuri shook it regardless, ignoring Victor’s fever-hot fingers and offering him and easy smile. Serene and truthful. _Oh, hell.._.

"Thanks a lot. I'm looking forward to getting to know each other," he said, voice soft and smile so sweet it brought Victor's thoughts up short once again. He stumbled for words once more to do the communicating for him as he cleared his head. It felt like he was sifting though a thick fog of cotton.

“Would you like a tea or coffee?” he offered Yuuri before he could think, barely restraining the smile that tugged at his cheeks as he searched for an excuse to accompany the offer “Unpacking all those boxes looks like it will be quite a job, so I bet you could use a pick-me-up.”

“That would be lovely!” Yuuri beamed, and while Victor’s brain was busy short-circuiting he fished out his key and ushered him inside.

 _'Well, here goes fucking nothing'_ , he thought with a huff.

 

* * *

 

 

Victor led Yuuri into the hallway in a daze. He wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore. His body had gone into autopilot the minute Yuuri had agreed.

“Mind your feet,” Victor said quickly as he saw the state of the hallway floor, littered with shoes and loose coats that didn’t fit on the single metal hook fitted into the wall.

Makkachin bounded in across the obstacle course first and Victor followed close behind, turning back to usher Yuuri along but finding him removing his own boots.

“Oh you don’t need to do that,” Victor said, but Yuuri shook his head smiling.

“I want to. Consider it my contribution to the collection,” he added teasingly, placing them on the summit of the shoe mound. Victor rolled his eyes and continued onto the kitchen, filling Makkachin’s bowl while the kettle boiled.

“Take your pick,” he called to Yuuri as he followed him in, nodding towards the cupboard. Yuuri selected a mug and opted for a jasmine green tea, one Victor hadn’t tried before. He went for the same, pouring in the water and pushing Yuuri’s mug across the counter towards him.

“You have a very nice home,” Yuuri smiled and Victor shrugged.

“It does what it needs to, though I’m barely hear during the skate season. Makka seems to like it too,” he said, chuckling as the dog wound its body around Yuuri’s legs in welcome. Yuuri scratched behind the poodle’s ears obligingly, eyes scanning the space around them curiously.

Victor was thankful Yuuri was seeing the place on one of its better days. ‘Better’ was qualified only by a slim margin in Victor’s mind, but it felt like a stroke of luck none the less. The dishes hadn’t been washed, but they weren’t piled high either. The surfaces were mostly uncovered, the floor clean but for a few muddy paw prints.

“…A girlfriend?” Yuuri asked out of the blue, the words hesitant, and Victor frowned. Then it clicked.

The washing machine was full to bursting, the door open and strewn with bras and knickers that made Yuuri blush in surprise.

“Wha-? No! No, that’s just Mila,” Victor laughed. Yuuri still looked distinctly lost, so Victor carried on “Babicheva, the red-headed girl who Yakov coaches? She lives only a street away. She hasn’t bothered to get her machine fixed, so she’s taken to using mine instead.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Yuuri said amusedly, more relaxed now.

Victor shrugged “She buys me detergent in return.”

The only other things that filled the space around them were a fruit bowl, void but for one overripe banana, and something that made Yuuri’s eyes light up with interest.

“You cook?” he asked, and Victor followed his gaze to a stack of colourful cookbooks, mostly untouched. He shook his head, smiling sheepishly.

“Not to save my life,” he admitted “people keep buying me recipe books in the hope that I’ll learn,” he grinned.

Yuuri smiled back “I could teach you some things, if you’d like?” he offered and Victor’s heart leapt.

“I’d love that!” he said quickly, all thought of distance and avoidance having long since vanished from his mind. He would take what he could get at the moment, consequences be damned.

“I mostly cook my mother’s recipes,” he continued with a smile “but they’re the ones I like best anyway.”

“What’s your favourite dish?” Victor asked quizzically.

“Katsudon,” Yuuri answered happily. Victor’s expression must have said volumes as he went on “It’s a rice dish topped with pork cutlet and egg and vegetables. It’s so tasty.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime then!” Victor laughed, picking up his tea for an experimental sniff. _Вкусно!_ The scent that met him was delicate and fragrant, and very Yuuri. He lifted the mug to his lips to gulp it down.

This was the first error on Victor’s part.

No sooner had the still scolding liquid reached his lips as he spluttered it back out in shock and knocked the cup forward… and right down Yuuri’s chest.

“FUCK- Yuuri! I…Shit, are you okay? I’m so sorry!” Victor fussed, one hand reaching out to Yuuri’s face while the other danced over his dripping shirt.

“It’s fine, Victor, it’s fine,” Yuuri insisted.

“Did I hurt you?” Victor frowned, pulling his hands back sharply as it registered in his brain how close together they were.

“I don’t think so. My shirt took most of the heat,” he smiled, and pulled the fabric up a little to reveal his bare chest, only a little pink from the liquid. Victor told him to wait and retreated into his bedroom to find a replacement top for Yuuri to wear while he put on a wash. He fished a one with a v-neck out of a drawer and heads back to the living room.

“Here, I found a—” said Victor, grip faltering on the top for a second and suddenly he was staring, eyes unable to decide what to focus on. Yuuri is standing shirtless, glasses askew and black hair adorably fluffed up from where he’d tugged the fabric over his head.

“What’s the matter?” Yuuri asked puzzled, and it was all Victor could do to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling as he surrendered the t-shirt.

“Nothing, nothing! If you give me the other one I’ll stick it in with all Mila’s stuff,” he said before turning back to Yuuri with a smile, face still flushed. The shirt was a little too big on him but cosy all the same, and he hugged the fabric to his chest contently.

“Thanks, Victor. Do you mind if I get started on unpacking?”

“Of course! I’ll come and knock when it’s done,” he said, and Yuuri smiled, drinking his own tea without any trouble and letting himself out.

When the door closed Victor let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in. He got the wash going and flopped down dramatically on his sofa, face pressed into the cushions as he groaned. The rest of the apartment was silent besides the faint thrum of the machine in the background.

Dimly, Victor realised that he needed to calm down. He rolled over and closed his eyes, focusing on slowing his breathing and drawing his thoughts elsewhere. But then those eyes drifted into his thoughts, chestnut brown and inviting, and that smile so kind it tugged at Victor’s stomach with a strange kind of terror-excitement and next thing he knew he was smiling.

The smile still hadn’t faded forty minutes later when the washing machine finished its cycle with a beep.

 

* * *

 

“Stop laughing! It’s not funny.”

“It is a bit funny.”

Victor glared directly into the webcam as Chris fought back a smirk. He hadn’t the energy to keep it up for long, sighing and slumping against his keyboard so his face typed out a string of nonsense letters.

“It’s just the timing,” Chris continued, not even bothering to disguise his laughter anymore “You lose a bet and what, one day later?”

“Less than,” Victor groaned.

“And turns out to be your _neighbour_!”

“You’re not being very helpful” Victor grumbled.

“That’s what I’m here for~” Chris beamed, “Honestly, though, Victor. How are you going to manage?”

Victor could only shrug helplessly. “Wait four weeks, I guess?” he tried.

Chris shook his head knowingly though “You are not exactly known for your patience, _Mon Cher_ ,” he teased and Victor sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Chris was right of course. He was doomed.

When Victor’s despondence brought forth no reply Chris’ amused smirk morphed into something a little more sympathetic “Can’t you just explain the situation to Katsuki?” he suggested, and Victor had to admit it sounded simple when put like that.

He shook his head though, “Wouldn’t work. I’m not allowed to tell him about the bet, remember? I’d be showing my interest just by virtue of mentioning it,” he pouted.

“Ah…” Chris nodded sagely, “I see your point.”

“This isn’t fair!” Victor whined dramatically, throwing his arms out and his head back as he shot the ceiling a scowl, “I meet this incredible, smart, adorable, sensitive, ridiculously hot guy who loves to skate and just so happens to live within _ten feet_ of my bedroom with these dimples that never quite leave even when he’s finished smiling and these _eyes_ that-”

“Focus, Victor..”

“–and I’m not allowed to date him!” he wailed pitifully. This was his worst nightmare, and yet there was nothing he could do to remedy the situation.

He only looked back at the monitor when he heard Chris cough pointedly.

“You got something wrong there, Victor,” he said, index finger raised to his lips as he pondered.

Victor shook his head miserably “That’s where you’re wrong, Chris. I know it’s hard to believe that a human could possess _all_ those qualities, but Yuuri is-”

“No not that,” Chris interrupted, waving a dismissive hand “The last thing you said.”

“Huh? I don’t follow.”

“You said ‘I’m not allowed to date him’, but that’s not quite right. The deal is you’re not allowed to _ask_ Katsuki out on a date, not that you can’t _go_ on a date.”

Victor blinked as he considered this, eyes widening as it hit him “You don’t mean…”

Chris simply nodded. He was grinning now “Commence ‘Operation Seduce Yuuri Katsuki’.”

A smile slowly spread across Victor’s face, eyes bright with excitement “Christophe you are a GENIUS!” he declared, kissing the camera lens as he heard Chris laughing.

“Anytime, idiot. Look, I’ve got to go now. Josef’s treating me to dinner. Get some sleep and keep me updated, okay? And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he winked, and then the connection cut.

Victor smirked. That didn’t narrow down his list of options by much. Just as well, he thought. Yuuri was definitely not the type to pursue other people. He would need to pull every charming trick he knew if he were to succeed.

It was time for Victor to show Yuuri his true Eros.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again! Thanks so much for reading and for all your lovely comments and thoughts, they make it all so worthwhile!
> 
> See you all for the next update, much love~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this opening chapter, since I had so much fun planning and writing it.
> 
> If you do have any thoughts or comments I'd really love to hear them, so don't be shy! 
> 
> I've also not forgotten about my other story 'It's Good To Hear Your Voice', I promise! It's just this idea came to me and I was keen to get it started.
> 
> Here is the Russian vocab I used:  
> Будем здоровы - Cheers! / To our health!  
> Войдите - Come in  
> (If I use any Russian incorrectly please let me know, and I'll try my best to make things accurate!)
> 
> ([I'm also on Tumblr](https://enjoleur-enjolras.tumblr.com/)), so do come and say hi!
> 
> See you next time, gang. Peace out xo


End file.
